


Teach Me How To Play

by Carrieosity



Series: Tumblr Ficlets - Yuri!!! on Ice [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Board Games, Chess, Childhood Memories, Domestic Fluff, M/M, Moving In Together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-10
Updated: 2019-04-10
Packaged: 2020-01-11 04:10:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18422529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Carrieosity/pseuds/Carrieosity
Summary: An old box in a storage closet brings back some long-forgotten memories.





	Teach Me How To Play

**Author's Note:**

> For the Tumblr blog WeWriteVictuuri's prompt: "Teach me how to play?"

When Yuuri was preparing to move into Victor’s Saint Petersburg apartment, there had been some concern about whether there would be enough room for his belongings. Specifically,  _ Victor _ had been concerned. Yuuri, who had grown up accustomed to a tiny bedroom in his parents’ onsen, and then an even more cramped apartment that he’d shared with Phichit in Detroit, was not at all worried. His training gear would likely take up more space than anything else, and he was used to finding creative solutions for that.

Victor, despite having spend almost a year sharing living quarters with the Katsuki family, didn’t seem to have registered the fact that Yuuri’s primary baggage wasn’t physical. Staring at the small pile of boxes that had arrived via post the day after Yuuri’s arrival, Victor frowned in consternation. “That’s everything?” he questioned. “Did they lose some of your boxes?”

“No, that’s it,” Yuuri replied. He rubbed the back of his neck self-consciously. “Not all of us need a walk-in closet just for our shoes, Vitya.”

Victor muttered something that sounded like he was making dangerous plans to amend Yuuri’s lack of variety in accessories, but since he did it under his breath, Yuuri decided to pretend he hadn’t heard. He nudged one box with his foot, testing the weight to see whether it was filled with books or clothing.

“A lot of this, I probably didn’t even need to bring,” he said with a self-deprecating laugh. “I mean, Marie Kondo would be shaking her finger at me, telling me that hauling around my old college books doesn’t ‘spark joy,’ or whatever, but I just couldn’t help it. Even if I haven’t read them in years, I might want to again someday.”

“Of course!” Victor agreed with enthusiasm. “I know exactly what you mean. Some books, I just look at them, and I can remember how I felt when I first read them. They’re as good as a photo album for bringing back memories. I can’t wait to see your books on my—our—shelves.” His smile was so warm, Yuuri blushed as he reflected it back.

“But some of these things, really, I just held onto because they’re important, but just to have on hand,” Yuuri said. “Like, my diploma and my printed transcripts. My portfolio. I mean, I don’t have an office, and I’m not really using any of it at the moment, but you don’t just trash them, right?” He sighed. “Feels weird just to move the box from my family’s storage closet to yours.”

“Ours,” Victor corrected again. “It’s fine, though. That’s what storage closets are for! Although I would argue for your diploma to go on a wall, not in a box. You worked hard,  _ solnyshko. _ ”

Yuuri made a noncommittal noise, hefting the box into his arms. “Which door is the closet?” he asked. He’d been so tired when he’d gotten there that he’d practically collapsed into the bed immediately, and they’d spent more time snuggling on the couch since then than they had doing any exploring. It had been a long few weeks of separation, after all.

Victor grabbed another box; judging by how easily he lifted it, it was probably the one filled with sweaters. He led the way past the kitchen to a door in the hall, which opened onto another walk-in closet. By its proximity to the kitchen, it probably could have been intended as a pantry, but Victor had filled the shelves with plastic bins and cardboard boxes, smaller items crammed between them and threatening to overflow the edges of the shelves.

Yuuri gained a little more insight into why Victor had been concerned.

“There’s plenty of room,” Victor insisted. “I can just shove this over here…” He started trying to rearrange and restack some of the boxes, changing the configuration but not making much difference in the available space. Realizing that, he stepped back with a rueful sigh. “I really should clean out some of these. I don’t come in here to look very often, so I never think of it, you know?”

“It’s okay,” Yuuri said, unable to hold back a chuckle at his fiance’s expense. “Believe me, I’ve seen worse. Yuuko can’t bear to throw away any of the triplets’ baby things, and when Takeshi showed me their storage room, it was practically bursting at the door. This isn’t too bad in comparison.” 

Victor seemed cheered by that, and somehow the task of unpacking Yuuri’s things turned into an archaeological expedition into Victor’s collected history. The two men sat on the floor of the closet, rooting through boxes and laughing; Yuuri was full of questions, and Victor was more than happy to share memories long-forgotten.

“Oh, wow,” Victor said when he pulled open the top of a box found near the back of the bottom shelf. “I must have put this here when I moved in, and I haven’t looked at it since. These are things from my old room when I stayed with Yakov and Lilia. Look!” He held up a tiny crop-top, sized to fit a slender teenager whose muscles hadn’t completely filled out; it was emblazoned across the front with black Cyrillic letters that Yuuri recalled being associated with a Russian pop duo in the early 2000s. His own Russian skills were just developed enough to recognize the expletive.

“Wow, Yuuri said, staring; his brain filled in the image of teenage Victor wearing the barely-there shirt, and it took him several attempts to find words to respond. “I’m sort of amazed no paparazzi tried to get a shot of you in that.”

“Well, Yakov would have had a fit if I’d worn it in public,” Victor said with a wink. “So I had to be extra sneaky when I did.” He kept digging through the box, exclaiming over various relics of his childhood: some stuffed animals, an ancient mp3 player, a stack of dog-eared paperback novels. Yuuri’s eyebrow lifted when he saw an old Gameboy, still in its box. Victor just pursed his lips. “I think this was a gift from a sponsor, but I never really used it.”

Wondering whether it still worked, Yuuri snagged the box and tucked it beside himself. “You’ve never been much of a gamer at all, have you?” he said, recalling Victor’s polite interest in watching Yuuri and Yuri tear each other to pieces in various fighting games, always declining offers to join in.

“Not  _ video _ games,” Victor clarified. “But look at this.” From near the bottom of the crate, he lifted a few smaller rectangular boxes, colorful images on the sides. “Checkers, dominoes, Backgammon. Yakov thought that board games would help me settle down a little, so I wouldn’t be always buzzing around like, as he said, some sort of deranged hummingbird.”

“Did it work?” Yuuri asked curiously. The far-away look in Victor’s eyes and the smile playing on his lips showed that Yakov’s remark and strategy carried only fond memories for him.

“Well, I don’t know about that. He still thinks I need settling, after all. But he sat with me at least a few nights a week, stubbornly teaching me the rules to his old favorite games until I was a worthy opponent for him. I’ll never forget the first time I beat him at chess.” Victor put the boxes on the floor, moving the ones on top until he got to one that was made of polished wood instead of cardboard. He ran a hand over the smooth surface, stained in the classic checkered pattern. “He pretended to be upset, but his face…he actually almost smiled.”

“Now I know you’re lying,” Yuuri teased. Victor widened his eyes dramatically, shaking his head.

“No, I swear it! Of course, he beat me the next time we played, and almost every time we played afterward. He doesn’t go any easier on chess opponents than he does his skaters.”

Yuuri winced, already feeling the butterflies he knew would plague him when he showed up at the rink and witnessed the brutality for himself. “Mari and I played Go a lot, and Phichit was more about crazy party games than board games. And poker, by the way, so do not let him challenge you, acting like he’s never shuffled a deck of cards before. He’s a total shark. I’ve played other games, of course, but never chess.”

“Really?” Victor looked surprised. “I haven’t played in years, but it was one of my favorites.” He thumbed at a latch on the side of the box, tugging it open to reveal a built-in drawer full of carved wooden pieces. It was obvious that this set was old, well-used and well-loved. Yuuri picked up one of the figures, a queen whose carved face looked sternly forbidding. She reminded Yuuri a little of Lilia.

“Teach me how to play, Vitya?” he asked. “I may not be much of a challenging partner for a while, but…”

“I’d love to,” Victor interrupted, grabbing Yuuri’s hand with his own, wrapping both their grips around the queen. His eyes were alight with anticipation and adoration.  


End file.
